


untitled

by little_shinra



Category: DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Bad Ending, Choices, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Power Imbalance, Short One Shot, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 06:18:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14562738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_shinra/pseuds/little_shinra
Summary: Mizuki's getting by after Toue's takeover. But not in the best way...





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**Author's Note:**

> This story was my entry in the Game Over Collab event posted back in March of this year. Finally got around to posting it on here. Hopefully another chance like this will come again in the future. I had fun working on Mizuki's character based on the Re:Code route.

Mizuki was in his room, wedged into a corner by his bed. He played at the tattoo on his neck, mind filled with fog. When he wasn’t being called upon by others, he was plagued by the figures and puzzles his mind created for him to keep him company. The figures simply stared at him and in their silence, he heard them yell. He was always the reason for their animosity and he simply listened in the knowledge that it was his fault. The puzzles, on the other hand, taunted him for what he lacked in memory.

He scratched at the inked skin, drawing blood on his fingernails. He pulled his sleeve over it.

_“I’ll make Morphine stronger. It’s what you always wanted.”_

_It was not what I wanted._

_…was it?_

Mizuki had only pieces to work with and drove himself angry with frustration when they just wouldn’t fit or the very thing that could answer the mystery was simply gone.

He knew that person was scary. Reveled in it, even. The air of subordination was hung over him when they were in the same room.

_It wasn’t like this._

Mizuki felt silenced while that person ran his hand over his head. He tightened his arms over his knees.

_It wasn’t like this._

He remembered, faintly, liking this person, their company. He trusted them, but how? The gaps in his memory didn’t fit. The pain in his head and the weight in his chest was becoming enough to pull tears to his eyes.

_I don’t want this anymore. This is not a life._

“Mizuki…”

The person nudged his chin up with a finger. He kept his eyes firmly to the side. “Please look at me.”

The brief waver pulled his attention to the golden eyes staring through him, dark circles and pallor skin adding to their depth. A shiver went through his spine and tensed his body to be akin to a board. He stuck himself to the floor.

Aoba knelt next to him and rested his head over his shoulder, “So tired. Damn head…”

He could barely decipher his mumbling.

“Thought I heard him…been so long. Why though? Why all the silence? Least he could do was not be so forceful about it,” he rubbed his eyes, the lingering effects of his migraine leaving him blinded to even the lowered light in the room. He dropped his hand on his lap. “You were happy to have me as part of the team, yeah? At least I knew that.”

_Not…what I wanted…_

“I was only doing what I needed to protect him. Had every right to that. Guess Restraint was right, just a damn accident waiting to happen!”

Mizuki shrank away from him. Aoba reached over, touching Mizuki’s cheek. The former Rib leader slapped his hand away, pushing even further against the wall.

“G-Go away! P-pu-please!”

Aoba stood up in his knees, towering over him.

“I was right through! I knew best! It was better than what the boring mutt had in mind! How was I the disaster? This turned out well in the long run. I gave everyone what they wanted and I get to be entertained. So why won’t he say anything?!”

Mizuki stifled a sob and put his hands over his ears. “P-please…”

“Was it because of you?”

Mizuki keened, shaking his head. “No! I didn’t mean to-”

“Was he dissatisfied?” Aoba took his face in his hands, a strange smile on his face. His bloodshot eyes didn’t quite look at him. “Let me try again. If I get it right this time, it’ll prove it to them.”

Mizuki screamed, knowing what he meant by this, and shoved him away. “No! Stay out of my head!”

Mizuki scrambled to his feet and shoved through the door. Aoba screamed after him to come back, it would be the last time, the right time, that he would be able to fix the damage he made, pick up the pieces and return them to order.

What pieces could he repair? His lost team? His broken mind? His ruptured life? They are a part of Morphine now. There was no leaving that. The two blondes’ faces came to mind whenever those thoughts passed. Midorijima is gone and far away. His choice made this future. What pieces could that man possibly repair?

Mizuki reached the end of a staircase he scaled and opened the heavy door greeting to the outside. An alarm sounded behind him. The wind passing through the roof top easily went through his hoodie, freezing his sweaty, hot skin. He felt half floated as he met with the metal gating at the edge of the outlook. Platinum Jail glowed under him, the people below minding themselves through like organized dots through the party lights surrounding them. Such an easy feat from his view.

The height was great enough. He climbed over the fence and held tight to it when he stood at the edge. The concrete went out to only half his foot from the chain fence. He peeked over his shoulder. His heart leapt to his throat once he took in the drop again. From where he stood, this was the balance he brought himself, held up by strings used in another’s hands.

As he lifted his foot, hanging it free in the air under him, a familiar voice ordered at him.

“Mizuki! Don’t you dare go any further!”

And he didn’t, his feet planted themselves to the edge. Mizuki cried out in frustration, shouting toward the city below them.

“God damn you! Why do you do this to me?!” Mizuki’s scream went through him, taking away any words the other could’ve thrown. “What can you fix, Aoba?!” Aoba flinched when he screamed toward him. “ _What_?!”

Aoba wrapped his fingers around the metal coils separating them. He kept his head down. The usual sway of confidence that held Mizuki around his little finger was absent, replaced with something that Mizuki couldn’t believe. He looked up to him when he spoke.

“It’s all I know how.”

_That sounds familiar._

The voice in his head whispered. It was his own.

_I was the same. I didn’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do now. I don’t know how to carry this guilt._

His fingers tightened around the fence, turning his knuckles pale. “I’m not your puppet.”

The wind almost drowned Aoba’s voice, “Don’t go, Mizuki.”

“You still terrify me, Aoba. How could you do that to me so easily? You should’ve just left me.”

Aoba nodded. “If you still want to, Mizuki, I’ll leave you alone.”

Aoba laced their fingers together, Mizuki still shaking from the wind blowing right through him like nothing, from the inner voice screaming to preserve himself, to gain distance from that person.

The guilt of his actions stood by him, eating away at that self-preservation. He still wanted to let go. It would be easy for both ways. To be free of the strings that played him like a fool in his moments of weakness, to be free of the puppeteer standing before him.

 

_[Choose]_

>>Let him make his choice

>>Make him come back from the ledge

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to create something dedicated to this ending because, given how long Re:Code has been out and the availability of a translated script, I didn’t see a lot of fanfics focusing on it, focusing on elements other than smut laced with dubious consent (the nature of this VN notwithstanding) of Moruba and Mizuki. Compared to Koujaku’s BE, it felt like a waste of potential for so many ideas. Mizuki has become one of those characters I grew fond of the longer I’ve been a fan of this VN. And thinking about the effects Scrap gives him in his route, it got me curious on the topic of his memory and identity. Short version: Mizuki deserves more attention. I’m more than happy to give, though not in the nicest way in this case. xD


End file.
